


Fairy Tale Curse and Cure

by BID



Series: Open Ended OS [4]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Adults, Aged-Up Character(s), Cursed Bill Cipher, Human Bill Cipher, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, incomplete but there are notes how it would have finished, mentions of sex in notes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2018-04-08
Packaged: 2019-04-20 07:00:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14255490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BID/pseuds/BID
Summary: Dipper took a step back, breathed out to calm himself, distance himself from the anger he felt towards the other, from Bill, the dream demon who stood there in the human form of a young, dark-skinned man.He frowned, once again taking in Bill's appearance, who'd been working at the shack for a few weeks now, so he'd only seen him a couple of times as Dipper was mostly busy trying to keep up with his editor's and publisher's insane deadlines.Carefully he nodded, observing the minute changes in Bill's body, shoulders lowering, a tight swallow, eyes wide with something along the line of surprise, gratefulness and perhaps even hope."Alright." the other answered, doing that unsettling lizard blink of his, now seeming a bit calmer that Dipper agreed to at least listen to him, "I've been cursed to be a human, and the only way to break it is for someone to fall in love with me."After waiting for a beat, instead of swallowing the coffee that Dipper had just attempted to drink, he decided it'd be safer to just spit it back into the cup, than risking his windpipe.





	Fairy Tale Curse and Cure

"Pine Tree, please, please just-"  
"Why should I listen to you?!" Dipper yelled, taking a step away from the man with dark olive skin and black hair.

"Dipper!" the other said, whispered, pleaded really, and he could see tears in the man's eyes, actual, genuine tears, tense jaw, lips pressed thin, and shoulders, no his whole frame was trembling.

Dipper took a step back, breathed out to calm himself, distance himself from the anger he felt towards the other, from Bill, the dream demon who stood there in the human form of a young, dark-skinned man.  
He frowned, once again taking in Bill's appearance, who'd been working at the shack for a few weeks now, so he'd only seen him a couple of times as Dipper was mostly busy trying to keep up with his editor's and publisher's insane deadlines.  
Carefully he nodded, observing the minute changes in Bill's body, shoulders lowering, a tight swallow, eyes wide with something along the line of surprise, gratefulness and perhaps even hope.

"Thank you." Bill breathed out, letting himself fall into Dipper's very comfortable office chair the brunette had pushed over to him. He did look scarily pale like he was going to pass out from stress at any moment.

"Ok," Dipper began, leaning his hip against the desk, "take a deep breath and explain me very precisely why I shouldn't sick Grunkle Stan on you since he apparently knows more about banishing demons than I do."

"Alright." the other answered, doing that unsettling lizard blink of his, now seeming a bit calmer that Dipper agreed to at least listen to him, "I've been cursed to be a human, and the only way to break it is for someone to fall in love with me."

After waiting for a beat, instead of swallowing the coffee that Dipper had just attempted to drink, he decided it'd be safer to just spit it back into the cup, than risking his windpipe.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" he asked, staring at the demon incredulously, "Aside from that being the most clishé fairy tale thing I've ever heard of _in my life_ , which is kind of an achievement, who the hell managed to curse _you_ , 'being of pure energy with no weakness' and all? And anyway if you need help to hook up, Mabel is Miss Matchmaker, not me."

Bill looked away, fiddling with the buttons of his black henley collared shirt, "It would be easy if it was just that... " he muttered, "The person has to be fully aware of the curse, of my true nature, of what I _really_ am, and believe it, and no form of physical or mental manipulation may be implemented."

For a long moment Dipper just stared at Bill, brain going a mile a minute, reminding himself to casually blink, because he was not going to start a staring contest with the demon, _former_ demon, as suddenly something clicked together, and he was very glad that he'd already swallowed his most recent sip of spit mixed coffee (secretly revelling in Bill's utterly disgusted look).  
"Me.", he barked out loud, "You want _me_ to fall in love with _you_! Bill, that's ridiculous!"

"You're the only-"

"Bill no."

"-person who-"

"Bill-"

The dark skinned man sprung off the chair, wildly gesticulating in an almost panicked manner, "I can offer you favours, I-"

"I don't-"

"Not just one! Think of what I can do, I can- scratch that, I can offer _servitude_ for-"

"That's not-!"

"-however long you live, if need be! Pine Tree, say something, anything! I can make it happen, if I can't then I know people who owe me that can! Name your price just get me _out_ of this thing!"

Out of pure reflex Dipper managed to catch one of Bill's flailing hands before it smacked him in the face, and the ex-demon froze, his chest heaving, body sweating and shivering at once, and Dipper could see the desperation and very real fear in his glassy eyes, could see a smidgen of hope, and he really really wished he wouldn't have to say this now.

"Bill, nothing you can offer me now or ever, could make me break that curse.", Dipper intoned with a low voice and realising his really stupid choice of words when Bill ripped his arm from the man's grip, tripping backwards a few steps while staring at Dipper in utter disbelief and bewilderment, before fleeing the room.

"Great." he muttered frustrated, drinking more of his too cold coffee, quickly deciding that, for all that he, yes, used to hate Bill _when he was a kid_ , the demon hadn't been real trouble in years. There was no point in pretending this to be farce, that bodies reaction's were too precise, too genuine (too out of control) to be faked through a simple possession.

And if this all was true, if _he_ was Bill's last (or even only?) resort for a 'candidate' to break this curse...  
Dipper shook his head. It wasn't like he could do anything.  
This was all too weird, and he was used to weird, but this was a _weird_ kind of weird, he had no idea how the fuck he was supposed to handle this.  
Either way, he should probably go find Bill and explain how he'd meant that before the Shack got burned down or anything like that.

Yes, that was a good idea, Dipper figured, leaving the cup of gross cold coffee at his desk, going to search for a cursed demon.

Except that his phone, of course, started ringing, the distinct, horrifying, grating sound of yowling cats that Mabel had been so generous to assigned to his Editor's number.  
He rubbed his temples in frustration, wishing he could take Bill up on that deal, and picked up the phone.

 

 

Three hours, a caffeine crash, and a migraine later, Dipper finally managed to get that monster off his phone, with the instructions that he has to change his entire subplot.  
Sure.

Not going to happen.

Turning off his phone and taking out the battery for good measure, he decided to fuck his editor, their stupid demands and the ridiculous deadline, and made his way down the stairs into the kitchen, in the loudest manner physically possible.  
He needed coffee, right in this instant, even if he was sure that sleep was most certainly a healthier option, he really couldn’t be bothered with sleep right now.  
Squinting his eyes as the energy saving lamp of the kitchen kept getting brighter, Dipper reached into one of the upper shelves, grasping for the jar with one hand, while he already took out the old filter out of the coffee machine with the other.

Except that this was a monumentally stupid idea to do when one has already been awake for, well, what was something between three and four days. Because only a moment later he could feel the large jar slip out of his hand, it’s impact on the wooden floor painfully loud as the glass shattered and spread its contents all over the wooden floor.

Dipper’s first thought wasn’t about the mess, or the glass shards all over the floor while he was in socks or the fact that this had been his last pack of coffee.  
No, the first thing he thought (and coincidentally shouted in frustration) was, “Why now?! It’s Saturday evening! The stores are closed tomorrow!”

Haphazardly avoiding the shards Dipper sprinted to the sitting room.  
"Grunkle Stan?" he called, not finding anyone, "Grunkle Stan, I need your emergency caffeine stash!". But the house stayed silent, one could never find that old man when one needed him.  
"Grunkle Stan!" Dipper yelled again, as he tripped through the door to the gift shop, slamming into someone and painfully landing on the floor.

"God forsaken meat bags." he heard someone hiss from underneath himself, undoubtedly Bill. Well, that's another person he'd intended to find, even if Dipper would give everything not to have to talk to Bill.  
Or more precise, not having to talk to Bill while he was somewhere between the process of shivering out of his skin and passing out from exhaustion. (Maybe he really _should_ go to sleep.)

"Bill!" he started while lifting himself off the ground, doing his best to ignore the dizziness.

"Go away, Pine Tree." the demon hissed, ignoring the hand Dipper held out to him, "Your answer was quite clear."

"I misphrased."

Bill froze in midst picking up the broom, before straightening up again and turning around to the other man, broom forgotten.

"If I _could_ I would take you up on that deal, " Dipper elaborated, catching a glance at the gift shop's 'closed' sign, while he sat down on the chair behind the cash register, as the dizziness didn't let up, "and I don't doubt that you can hold up your end, but I couldn't hold up mine. It's not how 'love' works, you can't switch it on or off. Human's can't control it."

Bill pulled himself up to sit on the counter, next to where Dipper was holding his head in his hands.  
"Not at all?" the former-demon asked, " in those magazines, they talk about in and out of love all the time."

Dipper sighed, glad that Bill merely seemed curious, questioning instead of angry or the like. He wasn't sure if he'd be able to handle any yelling to the pounding in his skull.  
"That's not love, that's- " he grasped for words, trying to remember the research he'd done for some of his stories, "that's surface feelings, a crush, a fixation, infatuation, lust, in some cases obsession even. But love is this undefined thing humans have always felt in different forms if we want to or not, and one way or another we can't control it.”

“Huh,” was all Bill answered to that for a moment, seemingly thrown by the concept judging by the silence, Dipper couldn't make himself remove his cold hands off his face to look at the former demon's expression, “so you really can’t help me?”

“Not with that,” he muttered in answer, trying to ignore a new wave of fatigue and pain, not noticing Bill’s critical stare and furrowed brows, not noticing that his own body was shaking enough to be easily visible.

Instead, Dipper slid off the chair onto his feet, the sound muffled in his ears, his bed upstairs his goal in mind. He could hold it together that long, really he could.  
A few steps through the shop the world began to sway, dark spots crawling in from the borders of Dipper’s vision, and he realised that no, he wouldn’t make it upstairs, he would probably not even make it to the downstairs hallway, let alone the door.

Muffled he could hear Bill swear, something pulled on his arm, his shirt, and the impact with the floor was a lot less hard than one would have expected.

 

\- - -

 

When Dipper woke up and finally gained coherency past the blindingly painful headache (everything-ache really), it was to 54 missed calls and even more text messages, most of them voicemail notifications.  
And it took him almost another fifteen minutes to actually consider checking his phone's calendar.

It was almost nine on Sunday evening.

He'd slept for about twelve hours on, what turned out to be, the downstairs couch? Why was he- oh.

Bit by bit the memories of the past day came back, of a more than desperate, cursed Bill, and the talk about love, and him passing out in the Gift Shop.  
So, there were two possibilities. One, Bill'd been nice and dragged him to the couch, or two, Bill had left him in the gift shop and Grunkle Stan had put him here...

Both seemed equally improbable.

First things first, Dipper decided and headed for the bathroom.

 

Almost an hour later and feeling marginally more human than before, Dipper returned for his phone and took to checking his voicemail.  
As expected most were from his editor and this one piss annoying company trying to sell him random useless stuff. But the last of them actually took him by surprise, it was Grunkle Stan.

"Hey Dipper, there was an earth-slide last night at the edge of town, the roads are closed for a couple days maybe, I won't be back till they open again. Keep an eye on the Shack while I'm out... and do me a favor, check on Oliver. Can't reach him, 'n the kid said he lives in that part. Don't burn the place down while I'm gone."

The old man's tinny voice cut out and the usual voice mail menu was repeated.

Dipper saved the message.

An earth slide, wow there hadn't been any in years, longer than Dipper's been to Falls now! He really hoped everyone was ok.

If Grunkle Stan's call had been just over an hour ago, and if he hadn't reached 'Oliver' all day then Dipper maybe really should go and check on him. He may not like Bill or his choice of name, but he also really didn't feel like seeing the demon dead.

With a sigh and the sandwich he'd made while listening to his phone in hand, he slipped into his coat and some wellies, grabbed a torch, put his old hat on and trudged out into the night.

It was cool outside and the forest smelled of petrichor, ozone and the typical pine scent, the ground was wet and muddy, but Dipper knew that it would be much worse once he'd reached the other end of town.

 

Just now, half through town, did he realise though that he had no idea where Bill lived. Damn! He should've gone through Grunkle Stan's employee records.  
The man sighed.  
He must be really out of it not to think of this.

But now it was too late, he wouldn't go back _now_. Instead, he decided to check if any buildings had been damaged by the landslide, or if it'd only hit the road thi-

Nope, the houses had definitely been... _affected_ was a word for it, Dipper recognized as he followed the outermost streets of Gravity Falls, and now stood in front of four and a half torn down buildings, some others that had been boarded up haphazardly and many more that were stained black and brown with mud, only visible to him thank's to the torch he'd brought, as most street lights were toppled over, broken or possibly without electricity.  
And around the entire spectacle was yellow and red tape, warning to keep out.

Dipper walked up closer, wading through the by now ankle deep sludge trying to find any indicators of.. something. He didn't even really know what he was looking for, though he new that at least one of the houses had had cheap rooms for rent.

Following the path of destruction, shining with the torch from here to there, throwing harsh black shadows over the debris Dipper quietly hoped that Bill hadn't been in any of the destroyed houses, it didn't look like someone could have survived being in there.

Dipper flinched hard, just a moment before actually processing what he'd even seen, a shape, a - person? In the rubble?

There was a person in the rubble, on their knees, bent forward over their arms, and practically covered in mud.

"Hello?" Dipper called out, heart still in his throat as he slipped under the tape barrier, slowly approaching whoever had a death wish. Apparently. "Are you alright?"

The person didn't move aside from shivering as he could tell now, almost close enough to touch, definitely close enough to be able to tell it was a man, with dark hair, possibly dark skin and- oh.  
"Bill?"

The person still didn't react, only turning when Dipper pulled at his shoulders, pulled him up into a standing position. It _was_ Bill, Dipper realised when he could take a proper look at him, worrying about the fact that the former demon just looked at him blankly, no annoying quips, no stupid one-liners.  
A shiver wrecked the body.

"Come on man." Dipper muttered, taking off his coat and putting it around Bill who didn't protest, didn't react at all, "Let's get to the Shack."

With Bill's mud slick wrist in his hand, he started the treck back, seeming much slower with the deathly silence around them, with the despondent stillness from the demon who usually wouldn't shut up if his life depended on it.  
The shortcut through the forest was dark, the layers of earth, needles, and dead wood easily swallowing the torches light, swallowing the sound of their steps.  
Somewhere not too far from them a fox bayed its warning.

Once they'd reached the shack, Bill wordlessly lets himself be maneuvred up the stairs by Dipper, both tracking mud through the old building, and Dipper wasn't looking forward to cleaning that up, or the bathroom he'd just put Bill in with the order to go and take a shower.

The demon hadn't followed him back out, so Dipper figured he'd be fine, and quickly stripped off his mud smeared clothes, washed his hands and arms in the kitchen sink and returned to the upper floor.

Finding clothes that'd properly fit Bill wasn't going to happen. Dipper was at least half a head taller than the other and somewhat broader, and he _used_ to have his old clothes here, but of course, he'd sorted out his closet just a few weeks ago.

Either way, Dipper got himself dressed again, and grabbed another set of clothes that was most likely to fit the former demon, and headed for the bathroom.

Knocking at the door and listening for an answer had Dipper realize that he hadn't heard any water running in the entire time, hadn't heard anything in fact.  
Slightly worried he knocked again, calling "I'm coming in!" and opened the door.

Bill was almost exactly where he'd left him, except he was now sitting on the floor, leaned against the bathtub, knees drawn up and staring at something in his hands, barely distinguishable between the various layers of mud.

"Bill?" No answer. No reaction, only more shivering.

Dipper sighed, trying not to freak out over the fact that he was entirely over his head. If this had been anyone else he would have probably called a hospital by now, except that he had no idea just _how_ human the demon really was, that neither of them would have the money for the bill (hah, bill), and the fact that, dead-end that Gravity Falls was, the road out to the next city and hospital was blocked by tons of mud.

"Come on Bill," he urged, pulling his cold mud-slick coat off the man, "we need to get you clean and warm, then you can sleep, ok?"

Bill just looked up at him, through him really, it was disconcerting how absent he seemed, but apparently, even former demons can become subject to shock. Now that Dipper thought about it, while pulling off mud-caked shoes, Bill was probably even more prone to shock since he doubted that someone usually (potentially, close to?) omnipotence or presence or whichever of those applied closest to an ancient dream demon, didn't have many things that could affect him that hard, without him being able to _do_ anything about it.

Dipper pulled the despondent demon back up to stand next to him, maneuvering the thin coat and long sleeved shirt off easily enough since Bill seemed inclined enough to just let himself be manhandled like an oversized puppet.  
The trousers were next, and under any other circumstances Dipper would be blushing, kneeling in front of Bill as he was, opening the button and fly, practically peeling the wet tight jeans of Bill's ass and legs, lifting the demons slim ankles out of them as a hand landed on his shoulder for balance.  
But Dipper was entirely too focused for that, because he could feel how ice cold and clammy the demon was, could see goosebumps all over his body, thin muscles shivering to generate heat, bruises smattered over the already dark skin.

So no, he didn't blush, didn't even think twice about pulling off the man's boxers, mind focused on the necessary, like that time Mabel had broken into a lake mid-winter. He hadn't thought twice about stripping her then either, the necessity of getting her out of the icy clothes greater than either of their dignity.  
Only a couple hours later she laughed at him that that was the first time anyone had taken off her bra _that_ quick or without blushing.

As of yet, things had been quite easy, but when Dipper tried to take whatever the demon was holding, the man seemed to almost seize up, freeze in the non-literal sense.  
Some sort of breakdown or even a fight was the last thing Dipper needed.

Hoping it was nothing that could break anymore from water than it already potentially was from the mud, Dipper quickly placated him with a "You can wash that off in the shower, yeah?" and instead moved his hands to Bill's upper arms as if that had been his intention all along, "Get into the tub."

The demon obliged without so much as a frown.

The water from the shower was always cold at first, barely noticeable now that Dipper's hands were about as freezing as Bill himself, and so he began the arduous process of getting caked, partially dried cold mud off the skinny demon, who didn't seem to have any intent in helping.  
_Why_ Dipper even cared he couldn't really tell himself, but seeing the man's bony shoulders slump, and head carefully leaning into his hands as he massaged shampoo into the tan man's hair felt oddly rewarding and made him realize how tense Bill had been at all times.

"They're gone", the demon suddenly muttered, barely audible over the shower's running water.

"What is gone?" Dipper asked, not stopping to rinse the suds off the finally clean and warm skin.

There was silence for another moment, and Dipper almost thought he wouldn't get an answer when Bill turned around and showed him what he'd been holding the entire time.  
It was two unnaturally black triangles, seemingly untouched by the dim bathroom light or the water, not looking material enough to look real. Like perfect black cookie-cut shapes photoshopped into reality.  
Just like Bill's natural triangular form.

"My cane and hat."

For a long moment, Dipper stared wordlessly. Not sure what he was supposed to say, what he _could_ say to that. In the end he just blurted out a "That sucks." as he handed over a large towel, still warm from the heater it'd been lying on.

Apparently, Bill had eased out of his state of shock enough to actually go ahead and dry himself, rubbing at his hair hard enough to make Dipper wince in sympathy, but he wasn't going to do anything about it, there was only so much he was comfortable with taking care of the former demon.

\- - -

"Mabel, Mabel calm down, yes it's Bill but he's _human_."

Bill rolled over in the bed, sheets too rough on his skin, so he stopped moving, the world too colorful to his (too many) eyes, so he closed them.  
Pine Tree's voice whispering through a thin wooden wall.. didn't grate.  
But then, Bill's hearing had never been 'superhuman'.  
Breathing was annoying.  
The cold even more so.

"No, he didn't try to hurt me or make a deal. I swear, are you even listening to me? I don't think he could if he wanted to!"

He cringed. The boy- man, was smart as ever.

"A curse. Someone cursed him and- yes I'm pretty sure it's the truth, look, he begged me. Not in some roundabout way, but straight out begged, offering servitude without bounds, it was- yeah- yeah exactly that's what it was."

Burying himself under the thick duvet that didn't do much for his cold body, the demon- former demon decided he didn't have to listen to much more of this. There was no need to know any more of the glee that the twins undoubtedly must feel at his weakness, he had done them wrong after all, from their perspective at least, but then Bill could admit that he'd been a bit harsh on them for being children... maybe.  
One way or another it would save him some humiliation now.  
His stomach growled and hurt, but he ignored it.

 

\- - -

Dipper had most of his morning 'routine' already done, and it was with the sort of nervous twitchiness you get by having your third coffee before noon, that he decided to check in on his new houseguest. It's not like he was afraid, he believed what he'd told Mabel, that Bill was powerless, but one couldn't blame him for being cautious, right?  
So it was with knuckles against the doorframe, and a fortifying sigh, that he knocked on the worn wood and called out for the former demon.  
Only to receive no answer.

"Bill? Bill wake up it's almost twelve."

Silence reigned, with the exception of some rustling from the inside, but Dipper didn't give up, knocking again, calling out for the other.

"Go away Pine Tree."

"Come on, I'm about to make breakfast. You can't sleep all day, we've got work to do. Grunkle Stan is out of town for a couple days until they manage to clean up the road."

All he could hear was some mumbling from the inside, a cough, something that sounded like swearing and then silence.  
Dipper sighed and decided that there probably was no nice way of getting Bill out of bed, and opened the door to Mabel's former room. The sight that greeted him was not, well, unexpected, but the demon did look more upset that he would have expected. 

Bill was lying huddled under the duvets, still wearing the large hoodie Dipper had handed him last night, if the hood over his head was anything to go by. His eyes looked glassy and his lips were chapped, and there was a paleness in his face that even dark skin and bad light couldn't hide.

"You don't look so hot," Dipper commented, opening the knitted rainbowy curtains and frowned. The frown was most definitely related to the rain outside, not the horrible cough that Bill just let out. 

"You'd find that I'm actually rather cold." he sneered hoarsely, "Now that you've had your fill of seeing me like this you can go away again."

With a surprised blink Dipper turned away from the window where he'd been smearing his fingers through the condensation.  
"Um, I'm not? You're going to come downstairs and eat breakfast. If you're as sick as you look you'll need it."

Once again Bill muttered something into the blanket, though this time the man would have none of it. Within three steps Dipper loomed over the bed and pulled the blanket away from Bills face.  
"Care to repeat?"

For a long moment there was silence, Bill staring at him mistrustfully, looking wrong and small in Dipper's eyes, but just as he intended to give up and walk away the other sighed.  
"I don't want to eat."

"What, afraid I'm going to poison you?" Dipper mocked halfheartedly but stopping as Bill started frowning at him even harder. 

"Of course you wouldn't." Bill snapped back confidently, immediately followed by an awkward silence, "You strike me more as a hands-on person."

Dipper snorted, "Nah, more a _letting idiocy and-or nature take its course_ kind of person. Not that I'm in the habit of killing people or anything else for that matter. Store bought meat is just fine for me. But we're getting off topic. Why do you refuse to eat?"

Bill's sudden grin of their impromptu murder talk vanished, instead, he sat up, still wrapped in blankets, making space for Dipper to sit down in the small bed.  
Once again there was a prolonged silence, but eventually, Bill snapped and turned back to Dipper.  
"It's gross, ok? You just put dead things into a body cavity below the brain, grind it into mush with your skeleton, mix it with some secrete and _swallow_ that. How is that not gross? And it does things with your tongue, this taste thing is just disturbing! How can you stand it?!"

In answer to Bill's rant Dipper just hummed. He hadn't thought of the possibility that the demon was just not used to eating, and the way he put it, well, yes it seemed like a rather disturbing thing to experience. But then an idea struck him, only remembering Bill once he was almost out of the room again.  
"Come on I think I know a way around a couple of those things and still get some calories into you. But you need to come downstairs, not moving won't make you feel any better."

Bill sat on the bed, grumbling, coughing, and with zero intention of following Pine Tree's order. It was bad enough that he'd gotten honest to god intimidated by him, the man was tall, taller than when Bill stood on the tips of his toes, much broader, more muscle, more acclimated to the physical limits of a human body. Having him loom over him like a great shadow, expression unreadable, one large hand reaching out for his face had been something Bill already had experienced during his short time as a human, and none of them had ended pleasantly in any shape or form. 

But then Dipper hadn't reacted like any other human he had met as of yet. Perhaps it had to do with him knowing what Bill was- _had been_ , had done to them.  
Or maybe Dipper was just that good of a person. 

It was an incredibly loud, shrieking, whining noise that ripped Bill out of his thoughts and jump up in alarm. What on earth was that?!  
The noise stopped, picked back up, louder this time, adding horrible crushing noises to it.

Wearily, and mildly dizzy, Bill made his way downstairs, not wanting to miss if the human was in the process of jamming himself through a lawnmower. 

By the time he'd reached the bottom of the stairs and peeked into the kitchen it had stopped, and now there was only Pine Tree pouring some green thick liquid into a large glass, sticking a straw into it and almost jabbing himself in the hand as he'd turned around to look at Bill. 

"Oh, you actually came."

"Couldn't miss the possibility of you blending yourself up." the former demon grumbled back, irked by the fact he hadn't realized from the beginning that the noise came from a blender, probably still the same one that the insanity called "Mabel Juice" had been first invented in. 

"Whatever works best for you." Dipper just answered as he set the smoothie on the kitchen table in front of Bill's face. "Try that, no chewing, no saliva, just but the straw on the back of your mouth and swallow."

Bill glared at the glass. "Does it still count as food?"

"Not really, " he replied shrugging, "technically it's a drink, but it's got the stuff your body needs to function, so that's good enough. I know I've lived on those alone often enough to work."

That had Bill perk up, "You don't like eating either?"

Dipper looked chagrinned, "Let's just say I hate crumbs in the keyboard. Besides, they taste good."

"Why don't you like eating?" he asked undeterred, already the straw in his mouth. 

With a sigh Dipper let himself drop onto one of the kitchen chairs and explained that he _did_ like eating food, he just worked too much to always remember doing so, smoothies were easy, the didn't take up time making, they didn't make your hands dirty, they didn't make you tired like heavy meals.  
Bill seriously nodded along with each point, surprisingly focused on Dipper.

He noticed that, and kept talking, mostly ranting about his work, to keep Bill distracted, watching the smoothie vanish at a steady pace, until a loud slurping noise made them both jump, interrupting a sermon on the hell of having _this particular asshole_ of an editor. 

Bill looked down at the glass in surprise, and then back up at Dipper.  
"Well," he admitted, "that wasn't so bad, I guess."

\- - -

They were in the Souvenir shop, taking stock and cleaning up, when Soos came in, accidentally ruining Dipper's freshly swept floor.  
"Hi dudes! Oh uh, sorry about that. I just wanted to check that everything is ok here, with he landslides and all. Mister Pines back yet?"

"Hey Soos," Dipper greeted, looking expectantly over to Bill who sat sniffing and grumbling by the cash register and counting money, with no intentions of acknowledging one of the Shacks longest employees.  
"The Shack is fine, Grunkle Stan was outside Gravity Falls when the landslide happened so he has to wait till it's cleared up. Your's and Melodies place doing ok though? B-Oliver's flat was torn down, I thought you lived on the same street?"

Soos laughed, "Dipper, we moved months ago if you spent any time away from your work you'd know. I'm really sorry about your home though Oliver. Once the rain let up we should go and see if we can salvage anything, just give me a call yeah? I'm happy to help!"

For a few seconds, there was an awkward silence, Bill frowning at the banknotes, one hand clenched in the hoodie's pocket where Dipper would bet the bowtie was hidden.  
"I'm sure he appreciates your offer Soos. It's just..been a rough night you know. Touchy subject."

The large man nodded seriously, "I can understand. Well, looks like you guys got the Shack under control so I should be on my way. Anything I can do for you?"

"Nah, we're good." Dipper waved off, but then hesitated, "Well, actually can you get double the stuff that's usually on our grocery list? Bi-Oliver is staying here, so we need more food. Just leave the bill in and I'll send you the money as always, yeah?"

"Sure thing dudes," he picked his umbrella back up and closed the collar of his coat again, turning back to the door, leaving heavy mud- prints, "and sorry again about the floor!"

"No prob!" Dipper called back, then there was silence again. 

 

NOTES 

FLUFFSQUAD SHIT STUFF!  
Bill's got existential crisis n angst  
Dip's got guilt he can't help bill better cause damn the guy's miserable  
They end up having sex on a fairly regular basis cause bill has trouble feeling good in this body  
yk, like the thing depression does, n pain isn't hilarious anymore so at some point somehow sex comes on the table  
probably after bill and dip just got comfortable touching each other n bill learning about the comfort of being touched, n at some point he had a random boner n dip jokingly asks if he needs a hand n bill just looks at him like "you'd seriously do that? Sure." or, maybe they basically fell asleep on each other on the couch or sth n had hot dreams n basically had morning sex all slow n languid n sleep-drunk, possibly still-actually-drunk from the night before and 'that wasn't so bad we can totally do that again, I should tried this earlier'

Stuff happens, Dip starts actually caring about Bill without realizing it, Bill gets a bit better and seem to start falling for Dipper and /does/ notice it (which makes it all the more heart wrenching since Dip said he wouldn't fall in love with Bill).

And then suddenly there's a car accident, bill got hit and dies on site.  
Dipper mourns for weeks, only starts thinking about their 'relationship' now, about how Bill made him feel, about how he cared and comes to the conclusion that, fuck, he actually HAD loved bill, still does, and he's so fucking angry cause he /could/ have helped him after all!

Dipper starts having dreams with Bill in them, triangle bill, and in the haziness that's dreams the ones he does remember vaguely he writes off on missing the fuck out of bill.  
Until one-day bill has gathered enough energy to pull Dip into the mind/dreamscape and hugs the fuck out of him, and staring at each other disbelievingly.  
"Nothing I could ever say or do could make you break that curse, huh?"


End file.
